


Dance With Me?

by Kahtya Sofia (KahtyaSofia)



Series: You Can Leave Your Hat On [2]
Category: Torchwood
Genre: Barebacking, Dancing, Established Relationship, M/M, Plot What Plot, Singing, Suit Porn, You Can Leave Your Hat On
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-04-15
Updated: 2011-04-15
Packaged: 2017-10-18 02:44:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,892
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/184157
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KahtyaSofia/pseuds/Kahtya%20Sofia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jack and Ianto check out a rift activity and end up having a private party.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dance With Me?

**Author's Note:**

> While watching Inception for the thousandth time, I caught sight of Arthur's braces, peeking out from beneath his waistcoat. I realized that I have themes in my fandoms; things that reoccur usually in canon, but a few are in fanon. I decided to write 4 fics, in 4 fandoms, linked to one another by: a character that regularly wears suits, the suits include waistcoats and braces, and a character portrayed by an actor who can sing. Because I was able to locate pics of the suit-wearing-singing actors wearing hats, I decided to add that in as well. The theme in each story is the song, 'You Can Leave Your Hat On'. Because all four stories are M/M, the [Etta James version](http://youtu.be/pO5sE-38MpA) of the song is the one I wrote to.
> 
> Each of the four stories can stand alone. You can read one, or you can read all four, it's reader's choice.
> 
> The fandoms for which I wrote a story are:  
> [Torchwood  
> ](http://archiveofourown.org/works/184157)[Generation Kill](http://archiveofourown.org/works/184155)  
> [Inception  
> ](http://archiveofourown.org/works/184150)[White Collar](http://archiveofourown.org/works/184788)
> 
> [](http://s664.photobucket.com/albums/vv10/kahtyasofia/You%20Can%20Leave%20Your%20Hat%20On/?action=view&current=CHD-HR700-JB-0001.jpg) [](http://s664.photobucket.com/albums/vv10/kahtyasofia/You%20Can%20Leave%20Your%20Hat%20On/?action=view&current=6097538.png) [](http://s664.photobucket.com/albums/vv10/kahtyasofia/You%20Can%20Leave%20Your%20Hat%20On/?action=view&current=canaperouge2.png)

Ianto huddled beneath his umbrella as he locked the door. The SUV was already pulled alongside the curb, Jack sitting in the driver’s seat. Ianto shook the rain water from his umbrella and climbed into the passenger seat, greeting Jack with a smile. Jack smiled in return, but continued the conversation on his mobile.

“We’ll drive by and check it out, but if there’s something needs handling when we arrive, Gwen and Owen are just going to have to come out and deal with it.” Jack paused, listening to the reply.

Ianto tossed the umbrella on to the back seat, and took a moment to admire Jack. He wore his greatcoat, as usual, but also sported a hat, ostensibly to ward off the rain. It was a vintage fedora, and looked smashing.

“Ianto’s with me now. We’ll be in touch.” Jack ended the call and turned to Ianto. “Rift activity nearby. Tosh isn’t getting any readings that something is amiss, but I told her we’d run by and check it out.”

Ianto nodded his understanding. He didn’t mind verifying that the Rift hadn’t coughed up any beasties. He just hoped there really weren’t any beasties there to ruin the entire evening. Torchwood had a way of causing one’s plans for the evening to go pear-shaped.

“Where are we headed?” he asked Jack.

“There’s a recreation center that hires out to local groups for large functions,” Jack answered.

“Oh yeah, I know it.”

As they drove, Ianto kept stealing glances at Jack. More than just the hat was different. He couldn’t pinpoint precisely what, as Jack’s coat was pulled close around him. His trousers and shoes were most definitely not what he typically wore.

“That’s it on the right,” Ianto gestured, when the large brick building came into view.

Jack parked the SUV and Ianto reached behind for his umbrella.

Ianto was never sure how he always managed it, but Jack got them into the building straight away. It was dark, but not unpleasant. There didn’t seem to even be a chill in the air. Perhaps someone had been there recently, and the temperature hadn’t yet had a chance to drop. Their footsteps echoed in the cavernous building, but it didn’t seem foreboding.

From his coat pocket, Ianto withdrew the small scanner Tosh had him carry, for just such occasions. He read nothing, beyond the residual traces of a Rift spike. They were readings typical of a spike that had left nothing behind.

“I’m guessing,” Jack murmured, as if to himself. Several switches clicked loudly under Jack’s hand, and warm lighting suddenly illuminated the space.

Ianto’s breath caught. The center was decorated lavishly. There was a small, fabric-draped stage at the far end, and before it lay a dance floor. Around the dance floor were many tables, all sporting brightly colored centerpieces and table clothes. Ianto realized the color theme was red, white and blue. The entire room was ringed by oversized portraits of old American movie stars.

“I know what this is,” Jack said with delight. “It’s a Hollywood Canteen.”

“That sounds vaguely familiar,” Ianto confessed, brow furrowed, as he tried to place the term.

“In the States, during World War II, the USO would hold dances for the GIs and sailors,” Jack explained, wonder evident in his voice. He trailed his fingers over the finery as he walked further into the room.

“They did the same here and in London,” Ianto pointed out.

“Yes, but London and Cardiff weren’t _Hollywood_ ,” Jack said, his delight obvious. He turned toward Ianto, grinning wide. “Hollywood was completely behind the American war effort. The big studios loaned out all of their stars to the USO and they’d come out and dance with the boys that were shipping out. They were called Hollywood Canteens.”

Ianto couldn’t help but smile at Jack’s enthusiasm. “And who did you get to dance with?”

“Oh, let’s see,” Jack mused, turning circles on the dance floor, “Barbara Stanwyck, Katherine Hepburn, and Gene Tierney. Veronica Lake even showed up, one time.”

Jack’s arms were thrown out as he turned circles, and Ianto finally got a good look at what was different about him tonight. Jack wore a black pinstripe, double breasted suit and brogues With the fedora, he looked as though he’d stepped straight out of a 1940’s Hollywood film noir.

“Jack, you planned this entire thing,” Ianto blurted, not entirely disappointed.

“I didn’t, Ianto,” Jack held up his hands in entreaty. “I had every intention of being on time for our reservation. You can ask Tosh.”

Ianto gestured at the length of Jack’s body. “Then how do you explain how well you match the décor?”

Jack’s smile widened in delight. He parted the lapels of his coat and glanced down at himself. “You like?”

“I do, but that’s beside the point.”

“It’s a complete coincidence,” Jack insisted. “How do I look, though? Like Gary Cooper? Carey Grant?”

“More Gordon McCrae,” Ianto mused.

“Oh, good one,” Jack said, shaking a finger in Ianto’s direction. “His era was just a little bit later, though.”

Ianto rolled his eyes. Of course Jack would know that without having to look it up first.

“Oh, hey, wait a minute,” Jack said, striding up to the small stage. He fiddled with something off to side and Ianto heard an impressive sound system buzz to life.

“Jack, if there’s nothing amiss here, shouldn’t we just go and try to make our dinner reservation?”

“Oh, Ianto, we can have dinner anytime.” Jack bounded off the stage, stripping off his greatcoat. He laid it over the back of a nearby chair.

Music began to flow from the speakers all around the large room. Ianto recognized a big band ballad, but couldn’t place the song or the artist. Jack smiled at him, helped him to remove his own coat, and suddenly, the name of the song didn’t matter.

“Dance with me, Ianto,” Jack said.

“Jack,” Ianto’s protest died on his lips as Jack pulled him in close, leading him in a simple waltz.

Pressed this close to Jack, when he smelled this nice and was dressed so dashing, Ianto was helpless.

As they made their way slowly across the empty dance floor, Jack began to sing along with the song.

Ianto stumbled slightly, but Jack righted him and kept them moving. He’d heard Jack hum, in key. He’d heard Jack singing softly, under his breath, and thought it sounded nice. What Jack was doing now, made Ianto’s knees weak.

Jack could sing. _Really_ sing. He knew all the words. He hit each note perfectly. He even added his own flair, tossing in some vibrato where the original singer had none.

Lust made Ianto’s mouth run dry, and he hoped Jack couldn’t feel the sudden stirring of his cock where it was pressed against Jack’s hip.

As the song built to its climax, Jack’s singing grew louder. Ianto couldn’t help the laugh that tumbled out of him, when Jack unexpectedly spun him out, then brought him back in with a firm tug.

As the next song began, Jack reached between them and unbuttoned Ianto’s suit jacket. He slid it from Ianto’s shoulders and tossed it onto a nearby tabletop. Jack transitioned them smoothly to a foxtrot, but at that, Ianto was rubbish. Laughing, even as he continued to sing, Jack slid their bodies against one another, as they danced on.

Ianto couldn’t help himself. He turned slightly, and placed an open mouthed kiss on the side of Jack’s neck.

Jack laughed in response, low in his throat. His reached between their bodies, and began to unfasten the buttons of Ianto’s waistcoat. All the while, he sang the lyrics to the song, pressing his lips to the skin just beneath Ianto’s ear.

Ianto’s hands gripped Jack’s shoulders tightly. His breath caught in his chest at the feel of Jack’s lips. Somewhere, in the back of his mind, it fleetingly occurred to him that Jack’s voice never cracked, and he never missed a note.

Jack slid Ianto’s waistcoat over his shoulders and down his arms. He tossed it aside. Ianto was vaguely hopeful it landed on top of a table, as his jacket had. He couldn’t think much past the feel of Jack singing against the skin his throat.

The song ended, Jack pulled away. Ianto made a sound that clearly expressed his dislike of that action.

“Hold on, don’t go away,” Jack said, bounding back up to the stage. “I swear they had an Etta James CD in here. Ah! There it is.”

The big band music suddenly switched to a funky blues number. Ianto was surprised, until he recognized the song. He laughed openly, shaking his head as Jack pulled the fedora down low over his eyes, and gracefully slinked down the steps from the stage.

Jack pulled Ianto in roughly, by his hips. He spun them in a circle now, grinding their bodies together, grinning as he nipped at Ianto’s jaw. Ianto realized Jack was also growing hard, as they danced. Ianto gasped and bit down on his lower lip, as their cocks pressed together, briefly, through their trousers.

Ianto turned and captured Jack’s mouth with his own. It was messy, and he didn’t care. He licked into Jack, teasing at his tongue. Ianto moaned when Jack kissed him back, using his broad hands to press their hips more tightly together.

Pulling back slightly, Ianto reached between them and unfastened Jack’s suit jacket. Slowly, matching the mood of the song, he pushed it off of Jack’s shoulders and slid it down his arms. Ianto tossed the heavy fabric onto a nearby chair, even as Jack swooped in for another, searing kiss.

The song shifted to a more traditional blues tune. Jack kept them spinning in a slow circle, hips grinding, and erections pressing. Ianto ran his hands over Jack’s chest, feeling the crisp fabric of his shirt. He wrapped both hands around Jack’s braces, using them to pull their chests closer together. Leaning in, Ianto kissed his way up Jack’s throat, using his braces to keep him pulled in tight.

Jack growled and raised his hands to grasp Ianto’s face. He angled Ianto, just as he wanted him, and kissed him, deep and rough. Ianto moaned and tightened his grasp on Jack’s braces.

Ianto took an unsteady step backward, feeling as though he was losing his balance. He realized Jack was pressing him, walking him backward toward the ring of tables around the dance floor. Ianto went willingly, trying not to break the kiss. He clung to Jack’s braces, trying to steady himself, and to keep Jack close.

When Ianto’s arse pressed up against a table he grunted in surprise, smiling against Jack’s lips. Jack didn’t appear to mind the awkwardness, changing the angle of their kiss.

Jack’s hands moved between them, dropping to the fly of Ianto’s trousers. He opened them deftly. Ianto refused to care that this was a wholly inappropriate place for a shag. He just kept his hands wrapped in Jack’s braces, tipping his head so Jack could more easily place kisses down the line of his throat.

Ianto felt his trousers slide over his hips. They ghosted down his thighs and pooled at his feet.

“Turn around for me,” Jack whispered against Ianto’s ear.

Ianto complied eagerly, managing not to appear too ungraceful, with his trousers around his ankles.

Jack ran his palms over Ianto’s back, then moved them over his ribs. Ianto shivered, when Jack’s hands skimmed under his shirt and caressed his chest. Ianto reached back and clasped a hand to the back of Jack’s neck, just under the hat brim. He turned to watch Jack’s face.

Ianto shivered at the feel of Jack’s wide, rough palms skimming along his chest and belly. Jack dragged his thumbnails over Ianto’s nipples, and he gasped against Jack’s mouth. Ianto watched as Jack watched him, mouth slack and eyes heavy lidded.

“Lean forward for me,” Jack asked, voice rough with desire.

Ianto turned and placed both palms on the table in front of him. He heard and felt Jack moving behind him; he felt one of Jack’s strong hands grasp his arse cheek, and spread him slightly. Ianto gasped, startled by the sudden feel of cool lube against his hole. Jack mumbled an apology as he slid a finger into Ianto’s body.

Ianto let his head fall forward, and Jack bit down on the back of his neck. Ianto moaned. He pressed backward into Jack’s hand, trying to get that wicked finger deeper. The music ended. No new song started, and quiet descended over them.

The only sound in the large room was their own harsh breathing.

Jack pulled his finger out, but immediately slid two back in. The lube was warming. Ianto groaned at the brilliant stretch, and it sounded too loud in the absence of the music.

Jack’s hand withdrew and Ianto’s hips flexed backward, chasing the pleasure of his hand. Ianto gasped when three cold fingers slipped inside of him without warning. As Jacked worked those fingers and in and out of him, Ianto realized he needed more. He was slick and open now, he needed Jack to give him more stretch and burn.

“Relax for me,” Jack whispered, as he gripped Ianto’s hips with both hands.

Ianto steadied himself against the table and breathed out. He felt the blunt head of Jack’s cock press against his hole. He ached to feel Jack slide inside of him. He didn’t have to wait long.

At the same time Jack thrust forward, Ianto’s hips were tugged backward. Jack’s erection slid up and in, quickly, stealing his breath. With a second hard thrust, Ianto felt Jack slide all the way in. His arse tingled where it slapped against Jack’s hips.

“Yeah, that’s good,” Ianto breathed, feeling himself open up around Jack’s cock. He reached behind, wrapped his fingers around one of Jack’s braces, and used it to tug him forward. “Fuck me,” he said, surprised at the rough sound of his own voice.

Ianto’s back was enveloped in heat, when Jack curled forward against him. He held tight to Ianto’s hips and fucked him.

The room filled with the sounds of skin on skin. Ianto huffed and groaned rhythmically, in time with the thrust of Jack’s hips. He kept hold of Jack’s brace, forcing him to keep his lips pressed to the back of Ianto’s neck. Ianto felt the heat of his breath, as Jack swore softly against his skin, murmuring affectionate obscenities as they fucked.

Ianto’s hips bucked when he unexpectedly felt Jack’s calloused palm wrap around his cock. Jack stroked him savagely, even as his hips continued to slam against Ianto’s ass. Jack’s cock slid deep into Ianto with each thrust. Ianto knew the stretch and the stroking of his cock were going to make him come soon.

“Come for me,” Jack whispered, against the shell of Ianto’s ear. “Come into my fist. Let me feel you all around me.”

Ianto turned into Jack, slightly. He felt the brush of the felt of Jack’s hat against his temple. Ianto tightened his grip on Jack’s brace, and started to come.

“Fuck, Jack, don’t stop,” Ianto cried, his mouth falling slack as his orgasm rolled over him. It shot through him, pooling low in his belly. He fucked himself into Jack’s fist, even as Jack’s cock still held him impaled.

When Ianto’s erection was spent, Jack released it, and moved his hand back to Ianto’s hip. Ianto gave himself over to it, as Jack thrust hard into and against him, a handful of times, before he came.

Ianto could feel heat flooding his ass. Jack groaned, pressed his chest to Ianto’s back, and kept his hips tight to Ianto’s arse. Ianto pushed back into him, wanting to feel every last pulse of Jack’s cock, until the last wave of his orgasm passed.

They stood, leaning heavily on the table, and breathing harshly into the silence. As reason returned, Ianto realized what they’d done.

“Jack, this really is unacceptable,” Ianto said breathlessly, looking down at where his own come soiled the table cloth beneath his hands.

Jack glanced over his shoulder at the mess. He chuckled. “We’ll just wipe it up.”

“It can’t just be wiped up like that,” Ianto protested. “It’s all rather unsanitary.”

Ianto gasped when Jack pulled out of him.

“If we get dressed and get out of here, no one will ever know that we were here, let alone what the mess even is.” Jack tucked himself back into his trousers as he spoke. He knelt to lift Ianto’s trousers back over his hips, even as Ianto began his protest.

“We should at least collect the linens from the table and take them with us.”

“Or better yet,” Jack said, as he moved around the room, gathering up their discarded clothing, “you could bin them.”

Ianto straightened his tie, letting Jack help him on with his waistcoat. He pondered the dark stain on the linen.

“Fuck it,” Ianto declared, helping Jack on with his suit jacket. “They’ll never guess what it is.”

Jack slid Ianto’s suit jacket over his shoulders, then grabbed his hand. “That’s the spirit,” he said, giving a wide, playful smile.

With both of their coats over his arm, Jack dragged Ianto out of the room and back into the night.

**Author's Note:**

> Beta'd by planejane, who has my undying love and devotion.


End file.
